


Sometimes, a Hug can Solve Everything

by makingitwork



Series: Chase/House [61]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Catholic Guilt, Happy Ending, M/M, No Smut, Pre-Slash, Self-Harm, sorry - Freeform, unexplored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:18:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because sometimes, a hug can solve everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes, a Hug can Solve Everything

" _He says my God, is a good God, and he cares."_

Chase stands in the bathroom, he doesn't worry about locking the door, it's late, and most of the surgical staff have gone home, which means this side of the hospital is free. He looks at himself in the mirror, there are dark rings under his eyes, and they remind him vaguely of his mothers. He touches them softly, counting the days it's been since he's been back to his nicely furnished apartment. It's not on purpose- things have been incredibly hectic this past week. He smiles raggedly, they've done it though, they cured the patient. And all of them shared credit four equal ways, without Foreman, they wouldn't have known where to look, without Cameron, the real history wouldn't have been achieved, without himself, the surgery could have gone terribly wrong once the tumour started _moving,_ and without House, they wouldn't have even have thought to look into tropical diseases.

But it's been a week.

And the cuts on Chase's wrists have all but gone. So he slides his hands into his bag, and pulls out his razor. With a bit of fumbling he gets the blade out, and rinses it. _"23.4 No man is to have sexual relations with another man, God hates that."_ He draws the blade lightly against his skin, his movements familiar and graceful, and it's ironic, he thinks, before training as a surgeon, he would never have dreamed of doing this to himself, but now he understands the human body and...this is nothing. Blood trickles nice and slowly, a good deep burning, like a cleansing, and Chase tilts his head back so he no longer has to face his reflection. _"It is okay to have homosexual thoughts, but it is a sin to act on those thoughts. You must remain celibate."_ He cuts again, swallowing thickly, his blood is hot against his skin " _Your body is the temple of the holy spirit, who lives and dwells in you. You do not belong to yourself, but to God."_

He sets down the blade, and cleans everything up, bandaging himself tightly, pulling down his shirt sleeves, he's gotten so good at this now, after he's packed everything up, he looks into the mirror and curses. "Why did you make me look like this?" He asks no one, "If you didn't want me to be homos- if you didn't want me to sin, why did you make me look like this?" And he's agitated but he's not being vain. He's being honest. Then he sighs, and realises that this isn't God's fault. "Bless me, Father," he whispers "For I have sinned. I looked at a man last night..." he runs his fingers through his hair, washing the blood from the sink absentmindedly "I don't know, he smiled at me, and he had one of those smiles, and I just...I didn't _do_ anything, but I thought about it, and I'm sorry." He sighs, wishing for his old priest, Father Mcguinley. He always knew what to do in situations like this. Chase smiles, "I'll do 20 rosary counting's this evening," he murmurs, the sink clean, he dries his hands, throwing the tissue away, turning for the door, and freezing.

Because there in the doorway is House.

Chase can't move, he's frozen, hand clasped tight around his bag, and he feels _mortified,_ and humiliated and he's wondering how much of that House has actually heard. He's going to be sick.

"That's from a song, right?" Is all the older doctor says.

Chase is stricken "W-what?"

"'He says my God is a good God, and he cares'" House elaborates, and Chase feels his stomach sink, because that means House has witnessed _everything._

"I think its Atlas by Benjamin Francis Leftwich." he says softly, arm tingling, and House nods.

"Talking to yourself is actually very healthy." House says, turning on his heel and heading back for the door "But self-mutilation is not."

Chase isn't going to say anything, but he can't help but succumb to the instinct of trying to defend himself. "Don't be a hypocrite."

House stops, but doesn't turn around, and Chase can practically hear the smirk "Touché. prodigal son."

...

...

...

And that's it.

For a very long time, Chase doesn't bring it up, instead waits apprehensively for House to do it in the most embarrassing way possible, except he doesn't. He just continues like sometimes. Though, sometimes, when Chase is eating his lunch and doing a crossword, he feels a burning stare on the top of his golden head and looks up to meet House's intense eyes, before the blue-grey flicker away. Not submissive- but distracted. House is clearly in control. Maybe that's why he's keeping Chase waiting like this.

It's late.

Again.

Everyone else has gone home, apart from House and Chase. Chase is slumped back in his chair, coffee cold on the table, pen slack in his hand as he looks down at the notes, through lidded eyes. He's half asleep. House is also sitting at the table, playing his Gameboy, waiting on some lab results so he can have his Eureka moment. He examines the almost sleeping boy thoughtfully, and prods him with his cane. Chase hums, but his eyes shut more.

"Catholic guilt, wombat? How boring of you."

That got Chase awake, he forced away the gentle throws of slumber to stare at House, suddenly guarded and ready for the barbs to get thrown his way.

"You know what is interesting though? The fact that you lied about how you left the Seminary."

"No, I did-"

"You were never kicked out. In fact, you're still a member. Just not in the priesthood anymore, it says 'you are temporarily pursuing your place in the world, but will someday return'."

"They say that for everyone, House." Chase said tiredly, rubbing his temples. When he opens his eyes again, his breath catches because House is right in front of him, and he can feel the cool breath fanning onto him.

"You do know that being gay isn't a sin, right?"

"O-of course I know that!" Chase splutters, almost angrily "I know that- I just-" he lets out an angry huff, because he _knows!_ But at the same time, he can't accept it. He blinks back tears, collapsing into the chair "I know."

And then something happens.

Chase is being collected into someone's arms, and for a moment he thinks he's hallucinating, because this can't be House holding someone, but he smells safe, and comforting, so Chase just burying his face into House's chest, thankful for the height difference so he can hide his tearing eyes and burning cheeks, as he fists House's shirt tightly, sobbing. He feels strong arms wrapping around his waist, he feels a strong jaw rest on the top of his head. He doesn't know how long they stand there, but by the time they pull away, Chase's tears are gone, and he's peaceful. He whines and whimpers a little, trying to get back into the comfortable subdued state of having House hold him.

"Yes, yes," House murmurs "Let's just get comfortable."

Chase doesn't remember much after that.

But he wakes up the next morning in House's office, lying with House on his sofa, curled up into him, strong arms wrapped tight around him. The office is locked, and the curtains are drawn, and early morning light streams in through the windows. Chase yawns happily, bangs flopping into his forehead as he smiles shyly upon seeing that House is looking at him. He snuggles back down onto House's shoulder "Comfy." He slurs, and House can't help but smile.

"You do know that being gay isn't a sin, right?"

Chase yawns again, eyes fluttering shut "I know." He says quietly.  


End file.
